


Sammy

by Anonymous



Category: Flashpoint (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Clean Hands, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt!Sam, Hurt!Wordy, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Age Play, Team as Family, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Any other time, they would have sent Wordy to get checked out by EMS and called for a backup team, but this was Sam.  They couldn’t risk it.  The other team might not get there in time, and there was no way in hell Wordy would sit and let a paramedic look him over while his little boy was being held at gunpoint.Set post Clean Hands





	Sammy

When they’d started this whole thing, the one point that had been driven home was that—aside from improving relations with the rookie—this couldn’t affect them on the job.  It was supposed to be a healthy coping mechanism and a way to get Ed to lay off Sam.  Most of the time, that worked.  Today was different though.

Any other time, they would have sent Wordy to get checked out by EMS and called for a backup team, but this was Sam.  They couldn’t risk it.  The other team might not get there in time, and there was no way in hell Wordy would sit and let a paramedic look him over while his little boy was being held at gunpoint.

“Sammy night?” Ed muttered to Greg once Wilkins was in custody and the agent was dead.

“Oh yeah,” Greg agreed without looking away from where Wordy and Sam were finally being seen to by EMS.  “We’re getting this debrief done in record time.”

Once it was finally time to head home, they all rode together back to Greg’s.  Sam was already slipping, and Ed kept him entertained for the short car ride. 

When they’d first started this, it was difficult to get Sam comfortable with the idea.  Once he was, he’d still wanted nothing to do with Ed.  Their relationship at work didn’t improve until Ed ended up teary over the way the baby clung to Wordy and Greg but avoided him.  As things improved between Ed and big Sam, little Sam was more comfortable with him.

When they arrived, Sam still had the presence of mind to walk inside.  He let Greg help him change while Wordy got situated on the couch and Ed started dinner.

“Baba!” Sam said when they came back into the living room.

“There’s my buddy,” Wordy said, smiling.  Sam went to join him on the couch, but Ed stopped him.  Sam sunk down onto the rug.

“Sammy, I need you to listen to me for a second,” he said, squatting in the floor like Sam had to be on eye level.  “Baba has hurt ribs, remember?  So he can’t pick you up tonight and you need to be careful snuggling him.”

Sam nodded, eyes wide.  Ed picked him up under the arms to set him on the couch, but he almost dropped him in surprise when Sam screamed.

“Eddy, Eddy, his ribs!” Greg said.  He had already seen the bruises changing Sam, and he knew he had to be in pain.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Ed said.  He sat in the floor and pulled Sam into his lap.  “Papa’s sorry.  I wasn’t thinking.”

“Hurts,” Sam muttered tearfully.  He buried his face in Ed’s shirt and put his fingers in his mouth.  Ed rocked him slowly and rubbed circles on his back.

“Can I see?” Ed asked once Sam had calmed down.  Sam nodded, and Ed lifted his shirt carefully.  “Oh, Sammy.”

Sam’s body armor had kept the concussion grenade from doing any serious damage, but the blast still had plenty off force.  The bruising was already purple-black, and it covered his whole torso.  Ed knew that Sam’s head had to be killing him too.

“Let’s get you some medicine,” Ed said.  This time, he picked Sam up under his butt and only touched his torso lightly to balance him on his hip.  Ed sat him on the counter next to the medicine cabinet and began digging for the Tylenol.

“Here,” Greg said, passing over a bottle.  It was just water, but Sam was probably dehydrated after a day like today.  Ed thanked him and coached Sam into swallowing the pills.

“You want to go on the couch with Baba while me and Daddy fix dinner?” Ed asked.  Sam nodded drowsily, and Ed scooped him back onto his hip.  “Here we go.”

Even as little as he was, Sam was careful not to put any pressure on Wordy’s ribs.  He leaned carefully on his shoulder and curled his legs beneath him.  Wordy had to coax his thumb out of his mouth to give him the rest of the bottle.

“You had a rough day, didn’t you, buddy?” Wordy asked.  Sam nodded sleepily.  “Don’t go to sleep yet.  You need some dinner.”

They put _Lilo and Stitch_ on the TV and ate on the couch.  Ed fed Sam half the plate before he shook his head and curled against Wordy’s side again.  Sam was asleep within a couple minutes, and Ed chewed his lip as he watched him.

“He knows you didn’t mean to hurt him,” Greg said quietly.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Ed said, shaking his head.  “God, I had just told him to be careful of Wordy’s ribs, and then I went and did that.”

“Not wanting to think of your one year old as the same guy who jumped on a grenade a couple hours ago doesn’t make you a bad parent,” Greg said. 

“They don’t exactly put that kind of stuff in a manual,” Wordy added, carding his hands through Sam’s hair.

“Yeah,” Ed said, still watching Sam.  The relationship had come so naturally to Greg and Wordy.  They could change Sam before Ed could hold him, and he still felt like he was making up for lost time sometimes.  “Maybe I should go ahead and take him to bed.”

Ed was careful of his hold as he carried Sam.  Sam stayed asleep, reflexively grabbing a fistful of Ed’s tee shirt and rooting his face in his neck.  The boy didn’t stir until Ed laid him down and started to adjust his blankets.

“Shh, Sammy,” Ed soothed.  He loosened the grip Sam had on his shirt and pressed a stuffed animal into his hands.  “Stitch is right here.  Go back to sleep.”

“Papa?” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s me, buddy.”

“Stay?”

“Of course,” Ed said.  He smoothed Sam’s hair out of his face, and his eyes closed again.  “I’ll stay as long as you want.”


End file.
